03/29

n. d. a. 

I think that in the end it will all turn out to be an irrevocable disaster for us. 

 Your disgustingly-red jacket, which looks like a bloodstain on the clear snow,

 Your stupid ragged haircut,

 Your countless hiding places and trinkets, each of which you can talk about for hours., 

 Your addiction to black and white movies that I watch with you, even though I don't understand anything., 

 Your collection of pens with pharmaceutical company logos., 

 Your belief in the apocalypse 

 and my stupid desire to be friends.